Sam Flanagan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them
again, she stepped in front of her brother. Nothing would move her from
the spot, she vowed.
Ches Watters looked around again. "Manager said I'd find young Flanagan in here. Where's he hiding?"
"I'm Liam Flanagan, sir." Liam pushed past her and assumed a business-like air. "Can I help you with something?"
"You surely can. Come here." For a stocky man, his reflexes were lightning quick. He had the boy pressed to his chest with an arm across his throat before Sam could move. "We're going to go back to my place now and have a little chat." He started to back up to the stable doors.
Everyone froze. The stablehands stared at the abduction in shock. Sam forced herself to stay calm but couldn't stop her hands from fisting at her sides. She tried to catch Marston's eye but he was looking at the doors. He seemed not to notice the activity in front of him.
Watters hadn't turned his back on them but it was perfunctory; he clearly did not expect opposition from anyone. He focussed his attention on his prisoner. "Your pa and me, we have a little disputation going on between us." He looked over his shoulder at the exit.
Liam clawed at the imprisoning arm. Watters cuffed him roughly on the ear. "Now you just hold still." Then he glared at the surrounding crowd. "Ain't you boys got anything better to do?" The men promptly scattered in every direction, vanishing into the stalls and up ladders.
Sam clenched her fists until the nails pierced her palms, cursing her shortsightedness. Why hadn't she brought her gun?
Actually, she knew the answer to that: because she had grown used to letting Elliott Marston handle everything, solving all her problems and smoothing every bump in the road. And the result was that when a member of her family was in real danger, she was powerless. Fool, she thought bitterly.
Liam was really struggling now, his choked whimpers of distress the only sound to be heard as Watters half dragged him across the dirt floor. Sam looked around for a weapon of some kind that she could use. Rakes and pitchforks hung on the far wall but there was nothing within reach except halters and bridles. Half sobbing, she turned back.
Why wasn't Elliott doing something?
Marston leaned against the first row of stalls, his arms crossed and his manner one of mild curiosity at the goings-on in front of him. Liam was putting up a credible fight from his disadvantaged position. His face was red and his breath came in gasps that were painful to hear. Watters was forced to apply more of his strength to keep his hold on the boy.
They were steps away from the double doors when a voice of authority broke into their struggles.
"That's far enough. Let him go."
Sam let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It was going to be alright; Elliott was taking charge. Finally.
Watters looked around. "You talking to me?" His piggy eyes widened in surprise.
Marston examined him with distaste. "I am." Pushing himself away from the stall, he strolled into the middle of the floor. The movement of his coat revealed the walnut-handled gun in his holster.
The other man hesitated. Then he took a firmer grip on Liam, causing the boy to cease his writhing. "Why should I?"
Marston lifted one hand and examined his nails. "So I can kill you."
Watters stared. Then he started laughing, short huffy laughs that moved his whole torso in fitful starts and caused Liam even more discomfort. "You - kill me? Are you serious?"
"Why don't you try it and find out?" Marston's voice sounded soft and dreamy as if he were thinking of something else.
Watters looked over his shoulder to address an invisible crowd. "He thinks he can kill me. Did you hear?" Then he whirled around and thrust Liam away from him, his hand pulling his gun out of his holster in one smooth movement.
It wasn't smooth enough. Marston's gun was out before Liam hit the ground. The shot roared through the stable before the boy had time to suck in his first lungful of air. Liam squealed as his captor's body landed on top of him.
Sam blinked. Her feet seemed nailed in place. Only the sight of her brother's frantic shoves as he tried to escape from his grisly encumbrance brought her back to life. She ran forward just as Marston pulled Liam to his feet.
Ches Watters looked around again. "Manager said I'd find young Flanagan in here. Where's he hiding?"
"I'm Liam Flanagan, sir." Liam pushed past her and assumed a business-like air. "Can I help you with something?"
"You surely can. Come here." For a stocky man, his reflexes were lightning quick. He had the boy pressed to his chest with an arm across his throat before Sam could move. "We're going to go back to my place now and have a little chat." He started to back up to the stable doors.
Everyone froze. The stablehands stared at the abduction in shock. Sam forced herself to stay calm but couldn't stop her hands from fisting at her sides. She tried to catch Marston's eye but he was looking at the doors. He seemed not to notice the activity in front of him.
Watters hadn't turned his back on them but it was perfunctory; he clearly did not expect opposition from anyone. He focussed his attention on his prisoner. "Your pa and me, we have a little disputation going on between us." He looked over his shoulder at the exit.
Liam clawed at the imprisoning arm. Watters cuffed him roughly on the ear. "Now you just hold still." Then he glared at the surrounding crowd. "Ain't you boys got anything better to do?" The men promptly scattered in every direction, vanishing into the stalls and up ladders.
Sam clenched her fists until the nails pierced her palms, cursing her shortsightedness. Why hadn't she brought her gun?
Actually, she knew the answer to that: because she had grown used to letting Elliott Marston handle everything, solving all her problems and smoothing every bump in the road. And the result was that when a member of her family was in real danger, she was powerless. Fool, she thought bitterly.
Liam was really struggling now, his choked whimpers of distress the only sound to be heard as Watters half dragged him across the dirt floor. Sam looked around for a weapon of some kind that she could use. Rakes and pitchforks hung on the far wall but there was nothing within reach except halters and bridles. Half sobbing, she turned back.
Why wasn't Elliott doing something?
Marston leaned against the first row of stalls, his arms crossed and his manner one of mild curiosity at the goings-on in front of him. Liam was putting up a credible fight from his disadvantaged position. His face was red and his breath came in gasps that were painful to hear. Watters was forced to apply more of his strength to keep his hold on the boy.
They were steps away from the double doors when a voice of authority broke into their struggles.
"That's far enough. Let him go."
Sam let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It was going to be alright; Elliott was taking charge. Finally.
Watters looked around. "You talking to me?" His piggy eyes widened in surprise.
Marston examined him with distaste. "I am." Pushing himself away from the stall, he strolled into the middle of the floor. The movement of his coat revealed the walnut-handled gun in his holster.
The other man hesitated. Then he took a firmer grip on Liam, causing the boy to cease his writhing. "Why should I?"
Marston lifted one hand and examined his nails. "So I can kill you."
Watters stared. Then he started laughing, short huffy laughs that moved his whole torso in fitful starts and caused Liam even more discomfort. "You - kill me? Are you serious?"
"Why don't you try it and find out?" Marston's voice sounded soft and dreamy as if he were thinking of something else.
Watters looked over his shoulder to address an invisible crowd. "He thinks he can kill me. Did you hear?" Then he whirled around and thrust Liam away from him, his hand pulling his gun out of his holster in one smooth movement.
It wasn't smooth enough. Marston's gun was out before Liam hit the ground. The shot roared through the stable before the boy had time to suck in his first lungful of air. Liam squealed as his captor's body landed on top of him.
Sam blinked. Her feet seemed nailed in place. Only the sight of her brother's frantic shoves as he tried to escape from his grisly encumbrance brought her back to life. She ran forward just as Marston pulled Liam to his feet.